Sunday People reporter Keir Mudie has been set the task of completing the route through his home county of Yorkshire - here is the fifth day - and last day - of his odyssey

After 30 uneventful miles from Leyburn I got to Harrogate and the end of my trip.

You have a lot of time to think on a bike and I’d envisaged the ceremony that was waiting for me on the way in.

Crowds of people would line the streets, kids would be dangled from windows to try and catch a glimpse of me as I flew by, grown men would be copying my trademark celebration dance (The Keibot) there would be flags, etc, etc.

I would then glide effortlessly to a halt as the new Mayor of Harrogate – Atomic Kitten’s Jenny Frost – presented me with a golden hat and large cash prize, as a token of respect from a grateful people for what I had done for Yorkshire, cycling, and humanity in general.

Then the townsfolk would lead me from the main square, where - using an elaborate winch system - I would be lowered softly into a barrel of gravy to rest until needed again.

But, weirdly, it wasn’t like that at all.

I was knackered and limped into town down a choked up main road, so close behind a chicken wagon that I could hear the birds chatting to each other. I overheard one telling the rest of its crate that the farmer had told them they were ‘going on a great adventure.’

You fell for it as well, I thought.

They haven’t got the finish ready in Harrogate yet so there was nothing really to see.

I got a bit lost and pulled up where I thought it might be. No sign of any crowds, or brass bands or Frosty, so me and Matt the photographer had to celebrate on our own in an empty park.

I tried to sing ‘Jerusalem’ but I was so tired that the only tune I could remember was the music from Murder She Wrote. Matt and I held hands and hummed that for a bit before a PCSO moved us on.

I didn’t even have the energy to go for a pint, and Matt was called off to another job, so we said our goodbyes and then he dropped me at my mum and dad’s in Leeds.

And that was that really.

I started off fuelled by nothing more than bad temper and a determination to prove people wrong. But pretty quickly – especially after getting into the countryside - I was enjoying myself, marveling at the scenery and grateful for the opportunity. I’d now be quite happy just gently riding round the Dales talking to people and looking at stuff.

It came home properly last night when I was sitting on the sofa with an Indian takeaway and a couple of beers watching the World Cup.

If you'd asked me a couple of weeks ago I would have described that as probably the pinnacle of human happiness. But now I couldn't concentrate properly and I found myself thinking of the night before, when I had climbed the last big hill in the fading light and there was nothing at the top except me and my bike and some sheep and rabbits and the most beautiful view in the world.

Trying desperately to recreate any of the sensations, I closed my eyes, leaned forward to grasp imaginary handlebars and lifted my feet off the floor, gently pedalling.

At this point my mum walked in. She must have looked at me for a long time before she gently asked me exactly how hard I had hit my head and that she thought I should go and get looked at before I went back to London.

Anyway, here to finish is my favourite story of the trip.

Landlord Mark, from the Green Dragon at Hardraw, asked me where I came off the bike. I told him and his eyes lit up and he told me that in exactly the same spot - coming down off the Cote de Cray - this happened:

In 1941, farmer Ted Banks was cycling back from the pub when a man jumped over a drystone wall and attacked him. He was trying to take the half-crown Ted had left over from his drinking and Ted was having none of it. So they fought in the road for FOUR hours. In the end, Ted went on his way still clutching the coin.

He kept it for decades as a souvenir of the fight. Then in his seventies - not long before he died - he passed it on to a little girl, the young daughter of the pub landlord who has still got it and will keep it until she's ready to pass it on again.

For me, that story is why Yorkshire is perfect for the Tour.

Toughness, hardness, grit, blood, sheer bloody-mindedness to the point of insanity (a four hour scrap for money you didn’t spend Ted? And then you give it away?) but romance and kindness as well.

It makes no sense at all and somehow makes perfect sense, like someone dreamt up a mad cycle race where day after day groups of colourfully-dressed men break their bodies and their minds riding up and down mountains as thousands of people turn out to watch them go by in a blur.

Yorkshire is great. The Tour will be magic.

Sunday People

Day 5:

Distance 32.21m(New record. Wow)

Highest point 613ft (Not even bothered)

Time 4h 14 mins (So what?)

Food Ham and cheese toastie. Ice-cream. Indian takeaway.

Drink Orange juice. Cobra beer.

When did animals start getting this f***ing cheeky award: A horse looked me up and down, shook its head and then said something under its breath. Unbelievable.

Overall winner of most painful body part: I’m sorry to end on a sour note but it has to be my testicles. We enjoyed an indifferent 35 years together but I had grown rather attached to them in a funny sort of way. Now, over the course of the last five days, they have been gently pureed to the point they could be piped out of an icing bag on to a simple white plate, most likely to be served with some braised red cabbage.

As the country’s biggest bike retailer, Halfords - which supplied Kier with all the gear - is geared up with lots of new cycles and accessories, including limited edition Carrera, Boardman Performance series and Pendleton road bikes – all with an extra 10% off until July 28. see Halfords.com for more details.